SHAMAN PROTOCOL-Chapter 108: First wave of Effect

Minutes ago...

"So, in other words, shamans were born to fight the corrupted god who had fallen into the depths of hell and crawled its way into our world..." The teacher abruptly trailed off mid-lecture, pausing as a strange energy suddenly flashed across the room.

The burst of energy was invisible—undetectable even to a shaman’s eye—but it could be felt. And that feeling made his stomach churn.

The students, on the other hand, perked up at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Those with higher spiritual sensitivity furrowed their brows.

"What was that?" a student asked.

"I just got chills," murmured another.

"I feel dizzy somehow..." one more said, covering his nose with the back of his hand.

"Class—Class!" the teacher raised her voice and her hand, catching everyone’s attention. "Calm down."

She gulped, scanning the classroom, now more aware of the spiritual zone they’d suddenly been pulled into. She didn’t know the cause, but the sensation was all too familiar—identical to the cursed zone sealed inside the academy’s oldest building.

As a teacher, she knew just how dangerous it could be.

"Calm down," she repeated firmly. "And listen to me—do not leave this classroom until I say so."

If they did, they might get separated. And a cursed zone of this size was more than enough to put the students in very real danger.

---

In another class...

"Do not move from where you are," warned a teacher in another room. "Stay seated no matter what. Right now, we are inside a cursed zone."

He wanted to say he had no idea how the cursed zone from the Old Building was suddenly unleashed. But as the adult in the room, he couldn’t show his own confusion—or the students would panic.

"This type of cursed zone... it’s dangerous," he added. "It not only distorts your memory—it alters reality itself. As long as you remain seated and don’t move an inch, we’ll be fine."

His face darkened. "Do not let your presence be known to this curse."

The students obeyed, staying in their seats with varying expressions. Some thought it might be another part of their trials or exercises. Others were drenched in cold sweat, pale with mental panic as the air around them just felt wrong.

Even so, no one dared move an inch. Not even the instructor.

---

At the same time, in the Headmaster’s Office...

Butler Basil stood motionless by the window, staring out. His brows crinkled, his usual warm smile gone without a trace.

"Headmaster," he called over his shoulder. "It seemed something horribly wrong was happening in the Old Building."

The ghostly blanket that usually floated around remained slumped on a one-seater couch a few meters from the desk.

"Uh," the headmaster’s youthful voice replied, unusually serious. "I felt it."

Butler Basil turned and walked forward until he was facing the headmaster. His eyes dropped to the broken teacup in the ghost’s hand. It had been split clean down the middle—tea now dripping from the cleanly cut edge.

A faint ripple stirred the small barrier surrounding the couch. The radius was so tight that the headmaster’s ghostly arms would be sliced if he stretched them out. For humans like Butler Basil, that barrier wouldn’t hurt him. It would only trap him at best. But since the Headmaster was a special case, it could hurt the Headmaster.

"The curse you sealed in the Old Building still remembers you," Butler Basil said, his gaze fixed on the distorted energy trapping the headmaster. "With such a focused barrier... it clearly doesn’t want you to interfere again."

In other words, the cursed zone had created this barrier specifically to trap the headmaster. It knew exactly who it wanted out of its way.

"Headmaster," Basil’s voice dropped low. "Was it unsealed because of your declining spiritual energy?"

"Basil." The headmaster didn’t even look up. "This cursed energy is more dangerous and potent than I remember. It doesn’t matter how it was unsealed for now."

He finally turned his head. "Evacuate the students. It won’t be easy, but I know you can do it."

"..." Butler Basil bowed his head. "I’ll try my best, Headmaster."

While everyone else remained frozen in fear in their classrooms, Butler Basil stepped forward.

But as soon as he opened the office door, he wasn’t in the hallway.

He found himself in the cafeteria.

Students and staff stood inside... but when he entered, they all turned toward him—eyes hollow, void of spirit.

Butler Basil closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he reopened them, they were sharper, colder. Slowly, he stretched out his hand to the side. Dark energy surged beneath his palm and took form, shaping itself into a long, black scythe.

---

Back in the Headmaster’s Office...

The headmaster watched Butler Basil leave. Once the door shut, his attention returned to the barrier around him. He didn’t need to study it to know that it came to trap and hurt him.

"It’s not my declining energy," he muttered solemnly, eyes scanning the perimeter. "Someone else unleashed and fed it. Now, it’s back stronger and more malevolent."

He had sent Butler Basil away not only to save the students, but because something else was coming.

"It’s closing in," he said, watching as the tea in the split cup lifted unnaturally, the edge of the cup subtly chipped... even though it hadn’t moved at all.

This perimeter wasn’t just meant to keep the headmaster from interfering. It was designed to squeeze him into nothingness. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

His grip on the teacup handle tightened, and in the next second, a burst of colored energy erupted from the blanket.

The headmaster’s spiritual energy was being suppressed, but that wasn’t what made him cautious about releasing more of it. What concerned him was the fact that the barrier was adaptive. It was responding to the one it had trapped — the headmaster — and would only grow stronger the more he resisted.

So he held back, maintaining just enough spiritual pressure to stop the perimeter from closing in.

"It seems the Seven Clans were right," he muttered. "If I can’t even break out of this barrier... maybe I really should step down."

---

Meanwhile, in the Old Building...

"Kyahh!!!" a student screamed, clutching her head in terror as she crouched in a corner, watching her classmates fall—one by one.

Their enemy? The walls.

Her entire body trembled in panic. Gigantic, black, rotting hands had emerged from the walls, snatching two of her teammates. When another tried to help, just a flick from one of those hands sent him flying across the room.

Now, all three lay limp on the floor, drained and skeletal, like husks of life.

"Please..." she whimpered. "Please, please... Mister Nocty, I give up... I give up—"

Her breath hitched when something gripped her ankle.

She looked down, lips quivering.

A black hand was rising from the floor, wrapped tightly around her leg.

"No... more—KYAH!" she screamed as more hands slithered up her thighs, and the hand around her ankle snapped her bone. "Ahhh!!"

Suddenly, her scream stopped as she was tackled to the side. She was thrown across the room. Pain seared through her body, especially her ankle, which throbbed like fire.

"Ugh..." she winced and peeked up. Her breath hitched when she saw who it was. "Zira?"

Zira knelt beside her, wielding a thin, long sword. Her sharp eyes were locked on the spot where the hands had emerged.

The student turned to look too, only to see a severed, melting hand dissolve into shadow, vanishing into the floor.

"Are you alright?" a voice called from her other side.

It was Ran, flanked by the twins.

Seeing them, the student’s expression crumpled as tears spilled from her eyes.

"They... they’re dead!" she sobbed, clutching Ran’s uniform. "They’re dead! Everyone is dead!"

Ran furrowed his brows, exchanging a look with the twins. The twins only shrugged, not understanding the breakdown.

"She’s trapped in an illusion," Zira murmured, watching the last of the shadows fade. "That’s one of the cursed zone’s effects. Shamans don’t rely on spiritual energy alone. We rely on willpower as well. We needed that balance."

She looked down at the trembling student. "Otherwise, once the spirit breaks... the curse can feast."

"Huh?" the girl blinked, still crying. She looked around, and her classmates’ bodies were gone. Only shadows remained — the same as those hands. Shock slowly overtook her as her mind blanked out for a moment.

"But... we’ve been together since the beginning?" she whispered, eyes full of confusion.

Zira pressed her lips together before glancing at Ran. "We need to find the others. This isn’t isolated. Illusion or not, it would’ve killed you if we didn’t arrive."

"What you saw..." she said firmly, "is what your fate would’ve been. Get up. We’re done with the group activity. This thing will kill all of us."

She was certain because she was a Zone Zero agent. A cursed zone of this level was high-risk, reserved for elite agents.

And even they didn’t always make it out.

Just like the tragedy of the Noxhelm Quarantine.

---

Outside the Old Building...

A soft breeze broke the silence. Mikel and Mister Nocty stood back-to-back, alert, listening to the wind whisper. Their eyes darted around, surrounded by some figures.

No, they weren’t surrounded by students or anyone they knew.

They were surrounded by robed figures, chanting beneath their breath.

The clouds in the sky thickened, moving quickly to cover it. Slowly, their surroundings dimmed. And as darkness crept in, the number of robed figures grew, doubling, tripling—until a full crowd encircled the Old Building.

Mister Nocty breathed out, sensing the growing danger around them. "Mikel, stay close."

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